Blood Magic

by Jayne Hawke

  “I don’t regret what I did.” Dean turned to face me. “I’d kill that bastard again in a heartbeat.”

  “And I’ve proven the other packs wrong,” Cade said with a grin.

  There was a weird warmth that spread through my chest as I realised they were just as broken as I was. We had an understanding, and that made me feel even closer to them. They were my pack, and we were screwed up misfits together.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Our focus had re-centred on the witches. Dean was in the kitchen preparing a huge dinner while the rest of us were digging for what information we could find. I was looking through Mom’s grimoires, trying to find anything of use there. She’d made comments and mentions of the witches before. Ethan, Cade, and Kerry were trying to find out where the witches were.

  I wanted to know why they had started now. The date in Mom’s book suggested that they had been created, or changed, not long after I was born. That meant they had lain low for twenty-four years. Chewing on my bottom lip, I flipped through the thick cream pages of the grimoire looking for further notes on the witches.

  There was a lot of information and philosophy surrounding the nature of magic and blood magic in particular, which kept drawing me away from my main search. Mom thought that magic was somehow alive and vaguely sentient. I couldn’t entirely disagree with her, given the trouble my god magic gave me. I’d put that down to it coming from the fallen god, from Dad, but that would have meant that he was screwing with me. Wouldn’t it? My head ached just trying to dig into the details of something like that.

  I found another mention of the witches near the end of the first book. Mom said she had found out the exact experiment and ritual the fae had done to forge the witches into the blood witches they were. I still refused to think of them as vampires. It looked as though the fae had lied to the witches and told them that the ritual would bring out their own natural ties to magic, thus giving them better access to the normal witch magic. By the time they realised the lie, it was too late.

  The ritual sounded brutal. The fae had slaughtered and sacrificed a total of five people, three of them young witches. The witches themselves had been forced to drink the blood before they endured what Mom believed to be an incredible amount of pain where their very essence changed.

  “Do they sleep in coffins?” Cade asked.

  I blinked and it took me a moment to realise what he was talking about.

  “No mention of coffins in the grimoire,” I said.

  “I suppose this is the modern era. Even vampires have to enjoy a good bed,” he said ruefully.

  I wasn’t entirely sure if was screwing with me or not.

  Returning to the grimoire, I saw that the ritual wasn’t ended there. The fae had done a second ritual that allowed them to reach inside the witches and twist their inherent magic. One of the witches had died during that ritual. Mom said she thought the rest of the witches wished they’d died along with her. There was a small note wondering if other witches had endured this and failed before.

  It was a fascinating and horrifying read that hadn’t told me anything that I really needed to know. Continuing my search through the grimoire, I moved onto the second book. That held a great number of ritual circles and explanations. I was about to move on to the third when I saw something about witches again.

  It looked as though the coven had been driven to ground. Other witches and supernaturals could feel the nature of their magic and drove them away because of it. The witches had gone looking for help, but everyone had turned them away. Mom thought that the magic would evolve over time and allow them to hide their nature. She had some notes about how blood magic is at the very heart of life and death magic, and that makes it more malleable.

  I wondered if that was why they’d waited so long. They’d been working with their magic to change and understand it. At first, they’d been terrified and desperate for help, but over the years as they were turned away that turned to bitterness and a need for revenge. Once their magic was strong enough and settled, they felt they were ready to take down the one who had done that to them.

  “How have they been hiding their need for blood?” I asked.

  “We’re looking into that. There must be a trail of bodies, given the entire coven needs blood,” Ethan said.

  “They could have willing people. It’s a common thing in vampire lore, desperate people who adore vampires and are happy to be fed on. If the witches promised they’d be turned at some point, I can see humans falling for it,” Cade said.

  The thought made me ill and sad at the same time. I couldn’t imagine being so eager to find some meaning and a place in the world as to turn myself into a walking piece of food.

  “That would certainly make it much easier to hide their trail of blood,” Ethan said.

  “The humans could be able to help us find them, then. There has to be places where that type of person hangs out. The fae mongrels might be involved, too, so many of them are pushed to the fringes of society,” I said.

  “Very true. Unfortunately, it’s difficult for us to get any answers on something they might be hiding, being what we are,” Ethan said.

  “Tell me where to go, and I’ll talk to them, then,” I said.

  Ethan frowned at me. I could practically feel the protectiveness rolling off him.

  “We’ll see what we can find,” he said noncommittally.

  I glared at him and prepared to remind him of my kick-ass abilities.

  “We don’t want to waste time and energy on a dead end,” Ethan said gently.

  I reduced my glare. He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t weak. If I needed to go into the dangerous places, then I would do so with my head held high.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Dinner was, as usual, a feast. Dean had taken it upon himself to cook multiple ducks, complete with plum sauce, spring rolls, and handmade pancakes.

  “Where will we find the humans involved with the vampires?” Dean asked as he piled his plate high with spring rolls.

  I wanted to, but I didn’t waste my energy on arguing that they weren’t vampires.

  “Don’t forget the fae mongrel angle,” Cade said.

  “They’ll be in the rougher parts of the city. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were in Storm, that club near the wall,” Kerry said.

  I grabbed the last of the prawn spring rolls before Kerry could. She already had six or seven on her plate.

  “Kit would never blend in at a club, especially one like Storm,” Matt said with a grin.

  “Hey! Why wouldn’t I blend in?”

  “You’ve never been to a club...”

  “And you have?” I challenged.

  He smirked at me.

  I rolled my eyes. I didn’t know why he felt the need to hide things like that from me. It wasn’t as though I’d judge him. I wanted him happy.

  “I could blend in at a club,” I said.

  “We don’t know if the club is a good call yet. It might be easier to deal with the fae mongrels,” Ethan said.

  “They’ll talk to me,” Matt said casually.

  “No,” Kerry and I said in unison.

  “You said yourself you hate fighting,” I said.

  “And I won’t be held responsible for what I’ll do to anyone who hurts you,” Kerry said.

  Matt held up his hands, giving Cade a chance to steal some of his duck.

  “Ok, fine. I still don’t think Kit’s a good option. No offence, but look at her.”

  “What exactly is wrong with me?” I said as I guarded my food.

  “Nothing wrong, you’re just not the clubbing type,” Matt said with a shrug.

  “As I said, the club might not be the best option. We need to consider the other places where the outcasts might congregate,” Ethan said.

  I wrinkled my nose at the word outcast. It wasn’t wrong, but I hated it. There were some groups of humans that couldn’t find a place within society. Some of them hated supernaturals and wanted nothing to do with them, othe
rs just didn’t fit for whatever reason. The mongrels, however, were actively pushed out of society. Most of the supernaturals took great pride in their pure bloodlines, and mongrels went against that. The fact that the fae had created them didn’t matter at all to them.

  A law had been brought in while I was a teenager to make it that any fae who produced a mongrel was responsible for said mongrel. They would be tied to the parent’s bloodline and anything they did would go against the parent’s name. Suddenly, the fae were absolute experts at contraceptives, and the rate at which mongrels were produced plummeted. There were still a few where people were too drugged up to really think, but rumours were that the fae paid off the non-fae parent and sent them far, far away. That was assuming the non-fae couldn’t be convinced to terminate the pregnancy.

  “Well, it won’t be one of those anti-supernatural groups. So, we can rule out their clubhouses, meeting halls, whatever they call them,” Dean said.

  “It will be people looking for hope, and a place in the world. The more vulnerable people,” I said.

  “They could be recruiting at the schools in the rougher areas. If they promised magic and a long life, I can see teenagers falling for it. Think about how vampires are portrayed. It’s a glamorous exotic life; it’s a fantasy. If the witches had any brains, they’d pitch it like that and pull them in that way,” Matt said.

  The cruelty of such a play made me far more than angry. If that was what they were doing, then they were stripping away any hopes of a long and happy life those people may have had. They were preying on people, making them no better than a dobhar chu or a mermaid.

  “We’re making too many assumptions here. We need to step back and consider all of the angles,” Ethan said.

  “Ok, so if I were a vampire witch, what would I need?” Cade asked.

  “How many were in the coven?” Ethan asked me.

  “Ten survived, I think,” I said.

  “Ok, so they’ll need a home for ten people. Covens like living together. They’ll need an income, and a supply of blood to keep them alive. You said the witch you tangled with looked normal, like she worked in an office?” Ethan asked.

  “Yea. You wouldn’t look twice at her if you met her on the street,” I said.

  “So, there is a very reasonable chance that they’re living normal lives, working in offices. We haven’t found a trail of suspicious deaths, so what other options are there for obtaining blood?” Ethan asked.

  “Animals,” Kerry said.

  “Willing donors,” Dean said.

  “Hospitals,” Matt said.

  “Witch supply stores,” I added.

  “Where do those supply stores get their blood from?” Ethan asked.

  I’d never thought about it. I knew that vials of blood were often available. The quality and purity of it was up for debate, though.

  “Abattoirs?” I asked.

  “Any ideas if animal blood will work for them?” Ethan asked.

  “I didn’t see any notes about that in the grimoire,” I said.

  There had been notes in there about how different types of blood reacted differently, but I’d been too busy looking for information about the witches.

  “We’ll look at the hospital angle first and dig around for suspicious deaths outside of this territory. There’s no reason they couldn’t have moved around to cover their tracks,” Ethan said.

  “First! I made pavlova,” Dean said with a grin.

  I had to laugh. He had his priorities straight.

  THIRTY-NINE

  After a little thought, I’d decided to invite the pack over to Mom’s witch workspace. I really needed to think of a better name for that. ‘The lair’ seemed a bit too villain-y. Maybe ‘the library’ would work. We had walked down the river together, enjoying the crisp night air. A heavy frost had already begun to form by the time we reached the building. A flutter of nerves passed through me. This had been Mom’s hidden sanctuary. This was a big moment.

  I reached out and opened the door. No one said a word or moved until I walked inside and gestured for them to follow. The space was well lit by hanging orbs of golden light. It appeared to have been filled with beautiful summer sunshine.

  Matt took Kerry around the lab tables and very eagerly explained what it all meant and his plans for the space. I was glad to have him happy and enthusiastic. I’d been concerned about the impact of the fight with the assassin on him. The others followed me across the room to the wall of books. The sheer amount of information there was insane.

  Ethan wrapped his arm around my waist and smiled warmly at me.

  “Thank you for your trust,” he said.

  I leaned against him. It felt right.

  Dean squeezed my shoulder and smiled. Cade grinned at me and turned to look over the books.

  “I’m going to finish skimming through Mom’s grimoires. Why don’t you guys see what you can find here?” I said, gesturing at the books.

  “Sounds great,” Ethan said before he kissed my temple.

  I found a comfortable leather armchair that looked just well enough worn for me to sink into it with a contented sigh. How many times had Mom curled up in that very chair reading one of the books on the wall, or writing in her grimoire?

  The third grimoire wasn’t as easy to flip through and digest as the previous two had been. I found myself being distracted by odd symbols that tugged at something within me. When I paused to really look at them, I couldn’t recognise or understand them. Sighing, I tried to refocus on finding more information about the witches. There had to be something more, something we could use to save lives.

  “Any news from Ryn?” Kerry asked idly.

  “Not yet,” Ethan said as he pulled a thick blue book from the shelf.

  “But you did make contact with him,” Kerry pushed.

  “We are all worried about Matt and Kit’s safety and wellbeing. I have made contact with Ryn, but he is busy,” Ethan said.

  Kerry backed off a bit.

  “I feel weird looking through this stuff. It’s not mine,” she said quietly.

  “We have Kit’s permission,” Ethan said.

  “Still feels weird,” Kerry muttered.

  A note caught my attention as I was flipping through the grimoire. It had a little border decorated around it to make it stand out from the words surrounding it.

  Not all is as it seems with Liam. Beware his magic. Falling changed something within him.

  William was my father’s name. The note almost looked as though it was meant for someone else to read. Why would Mom make a note like that? At first, I tried to tell myself it was a different Liam, but the falling part sounded a lot like Dad. It wasn’t as though there were many ways to fall. I supposed it could have been a fae then fell from the courts, but that seemed far less likely.

  His magic was running through my veins, and yet my Mom thought it was something she needed to be wary of. My parents had always seemed to be madly in love. They smiled when they saw each other and were gentle and affectionate with each other. I’d always dreamed of having a marriage like they did, one full of laughter and meaningful moments.

  As I looked at the note in its tidy script, I couldn’t help but fear that there were yet more secrets hiding within my perfect little family.

  FORTY

  I hadn’t told the others about the weird note about my father in the grimoire. It spiralled around my dreams and subconscious. I felt as though I was chasing a wisp of smoke through a dark tunnel trying to figure out exactly what secrets lay hidden in my family’s past. Could it be that the god magic was as much of a risk if not more than the witch magic?

  The day had been spent looking through the library and internet, trying to piece everything together. There had to be something that would tell us what we needed about the witches. There was just so much information, so many books. It was time consuming and exhausting.

  I’d been expecting the usual big pack dinner. Everyone bar Ethan headed out for pizza and the la
test heist movie. I suspected that Ethan had sent them away, not that I was complaining. A little quiet time with him was exactly what I needed.

  We shared a bottle of red wine as I watched Ethan cook. He knew better than to ask me to help him as he prepared the beef. The meal was a simple steak and roast potatoes with vegetables, but I appreciated the effort he’d put in. We remained in the kitchen in a comfortable silence as big heavy snowflakes fell outside, covering the cracked concrete in a fresh white layer. I adored watching the snow fall. It made everything fresh and new, even if only for a few days.

  Logically, I knew that the evening was the perfect opportunity to strip Ethan down, but I had too much weighing on my mind. I needed to be in his arms and enjoy the comfort that provided rather than giving in to my carnal desires. As he liked to remind me, we had all the time in the world.

  “Tell me what’s bothering you,” he said gently as he cleared the plates away.

  Everything about the meal had been perfection. We had turned the lights off and eaten by candlelight. His eyes glittered in the warm light, and I found myself losing myself in them on more than one ocassion.

  “Everything,” I said with a laugh.

  He scooped me up in his arms and carried me over to the couch. I settled myself in his lap while he turned the TV on and began looking for a movie.

  “I’m worried about Matt. I don’t want him to become cold and callous. I need to remove the bounty from my head for his sake if no one else’s. And... it could be nothing, but I found a weird note in Mom’s grimoire. It said to beware of Liam and his magic. Liam was my dad’s name.”

  Ethan wrapped his arms around me, gently holding me against his strong chest. His scent wrapped around me, and I felt the soothing rhythm of his magic.

  “Don’t worry about Matt. Kerry won’t let that happen to him. Ignore her cat nonsense about hating monogamy and never settling down. She would burn the world to the ground if that’s what it took to make Matt happy. As for the bounty, I have spoken to Ryn. If he agrees to see me, then he can remove any bounty on your head, no matter who put it there. We’re safe here. I don’t know about the note in your mother’s grimoire. It could be something, and it could be nothing. Is there any chance that she meant at an alchemical level? Could his magic be temperamental with her own?”